Do Christmas Trees scream?

Looking for a Christmas tree and lost in the outer suburbs of Burrelton, we saw a sign.  And in a trice we were in the walled garden where several hundred trees were growing just waiting for us to choose …  But which one? We were accompanied by the lady of the house – a most wonderful character in a tweed hat – and the faithful John with chain saw at the ready.

Alison is a great one for searching for perfect tree.  It will, of course, be Anglican to the roots.  Or Goldilocks.  Not too tall or too short.  Not too bushy or too bare.  Even all the way round.  So we chose a nice one with a suitably eccentric kink in the top.  John stepped forward with the chain saw and the job was done.  I winced.

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